


kiss me like it's christmas, hold on 'til we're breathless

by itjustkindahappened



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Christmas fic, First Date, M/M, This is ridiculous, drama student!Louis, fluffy fluffy fluffy, harry is a smug rich kid, larry fluff, larry stylinson - Freeform, louis is broke, meet cute, rich!Harry, so very fluffy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-24
Updated: 2014-12-24
Packaged: 2018-03-03 07:06:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2842349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itjustkindahappened/pseuds/itjustkindahappened
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis is broke and in desperate need of a coat, Harry is a rich kid who catches him shoplifting and they accidently go on a date.</p>
            </blockquote>





	kiss me like it's christmas, hold on 'til we're breathless

**Author's Note:**

> this is a stupid, fluffy thing that I wrote solely to get the christmas feels out of my system. not edited, might do that later. 
> 
> merry christmas and hope you enjoy, beautiful people xxxx

Louis really isn’t a thief. He’s in fact never stolen anything in his life.

There was just this coat, you see. There was this very expensive coat in this very posh clothing shop, and it was big and comfortable, and it had this warm chocolate tone that just _begged_ Louis to buy it. And Louis, with his knitted scarf pulled up to his nose, his Christmas hat askew on his head, and his winter coat that’s two sizes too small and has three missing buttons, he was bitten roughly by the cold of New York City in December and he didn’t know what to do.

His economy is not exactly on top, so to say. He’s quite recently moved to New York to study theatrical arts, he’s got a half-assed job at a coffee shop, and it’s not like he has a family who can provide him with the money he needs from back in England. He can’t afford the coat of his dreams, he’s well aware and he was just going to try it on, but. It was just. It was so very warm.

And that’s the story of how Louis is now carefully walking towards the exit with a winter coat stuffed into his bag.

His heart is thumping loudly in his chest and he can practically feel the pearls of sweat forming on his forehead as he desperately prays no one will notice him.

He’s about ten steps away from the door, when his prayers prove to be in vain.

“I would not walk out of that door if I were you,” a raspy voice says behind him, and Louis’ world stops.

_Fuck. Fuck. Fuck._

He stops dead in his tracks, too terrified to even turn around to look at the probably incredibly threatening security guard.

So this is it _,_ he thinks. He’s going to jail. He’s going to jail at eighteen years of age after one semester at Juilliard, he’s going to lose his home and his job and his fought-for top education and his friends and he will never be able to look his mom in the eye again –

“Look, this would be easier if you’d just turn around.”

Louis shuts his eyes and tentatively takes another small step against the door, testing the waters.

“Don’t you dare run out of here.” The man sounds firm and determined, and Louis wants to cry. “Do you seriously think they don’t have a security system for this? _Here_? You’d be caught in no time, man. Jesus, you’ve never done this before, haven’t you?”

 _Wait. Hold on_.

Louis frowns in confusion. That does not sound like a security guard-y thing to say at all.

He slowly turns around to face the person who caught him, and realizes his predictions have been very wrong. The boy, not man, standing in front of him could not be older than seventeen. One of his eyebrows are raised and it almost disappears under a floppy fringe of curls, his cherry pink lips are pulled into a smirk that’s dimpling his round cheeks. He looks like a little child.

Which should be alarming, because Louis, under no circumstances, has never wanted to kiss a child like he wants to kiss this one. Or. Louis has never under any circumstances wanted to kiss a child, period. So he shouldn’t be as attracted to this boy as he is.

Curly eyes him up and down, and then his smirk fades a little as he takes in Louis’ appearance. Louis sees it being replaced with something terribly similar to pity, and he’s all of sudden feeling incredibly pathetic.

It’s very evident that the kid in front of him is not just attractive, but also rich. He’s got this Burberry scarf and polished boots, and a fancy watch resting on his wrist, and Louis is standing there in his old, ragged coat and stupid hat, trying to smuggle a piece of clothing in his shabby bag out of the store and it’s so evident he doesn’t belong here.

Louis looks down on his feet, and he feels his face heating up. He doesn’t know when he last felt this mortified.

“I – “, he tries, searching for an explanation to justify this. “I don’t – “

“Hey,” Green Eyes says, and his voice is incredibly soft now. Louis dares to meet his gaze, looking into an astonishing green full of concern. “S’ alright. Times are tough for all of us.”

Louis lets out a little bitter laugh. “Really now? Doesn’t really look like you’re in the need of shoplifting to get a new coat.”

“You’re right,” the boy nods, making his curls bounce. “That’s why you’re going to get it out of there and let me buy it for you.”

What. _What_?

“What?” is what tumbles out of Louis’ mouth.

Curly laughs. “You’ve got a charming accent. British?”

“Yes. Northerner. Thanks. Or. I mean.” Louis swallows and mentally slaps himself. Where has his usual quick retorts gone? “Listen, I’ll just go and put this back and then we can forget about all of this…”

“Nonsense.” Dimples frowns a little and pulls the coat out of Louis’ back himself under weak protests from the Englishman. “I’m Harry, by the way. And I’m paying for this now.”

“Harry,” Louis tries the name on his tongue. It fits him. “I’m Louis. And you, listen, you can’t just do that. It’s, like, it’s very expensive.”

Harry snorts. “Not to sound stuck-up, but I’m pretty sure my scarf costs more than this coat. It’s fine.”

“Not to sound stuck-up, though,” Louis mutters. Harry giggles a little, and it reminds Louis of jingling bells.

“Come on now. Let’s buy this thing and then let’s go somewhere. I’m in need for some company and I’d quite like to get to know you better.” And then Harry _winks_ , and Louis just stares dumbfounded for a few seconds.

No, really, who even _does_ that?

Louis just watches as Harry chats happily with the girl behind the desk, making her giggle and blush and then proceeds to pay in _cash_.

Louis can’t do anything but shake his head in disbelief and sincerely wondering if this boy is even real.

~

 

They end up at Starbucks, because it’s close to where they were and it’s snowing.

Not that Louis is freezing anymore. He does, after all, have a very nice and warm coat on to shield him from the cold.

As soon as they enter the coffee shop, Harry pulls out his thick wallet again.

“So, I’m having a chai latte with milk and you’re having…?”

Louis frowns. “Wait a second. You’re not paying for this, too.”

“Yes, I am,” Harry states as if it was the most reasonable thing in the world.

“Just because I couldn’t afford an expensive designer coat on my own doesn’t mean I’m _broke_.”

Harry laughs again. He’s got snowflakes resting on his eyelashes and his nose is tinted red, and Louis thinks he looks like winter.

“I really enjoy spoiling people I like. Take it as a compliment and tell me what you want.”

Louis hides a smile in his scarf, trying to not focus too hard on why it makes him so happy to hear that Harry likes him and rolls his eyes.

“Fine. I’d like some tea. Earl Grey.”

Harry raises an eyebrow. “So the tea thing is legit, then?”

Louis doesn’t even blink. “You have no idea,” he says emphatically.

The pair reach the cash register, and Harry orders their hot drinks. While waiting for their names to be called out, they choose where to sit, settling at a small, round table. Louis removes his wonderful coat and hangs it on the chair he’s sitting on, and when their drinks are done Harry raises before Louis even has time to make a move and skips away to get them.

His enthusiasm is slightly adorable, Louis must say.

“So,” Harry starts when they’re seated and sipping on their drinks. “Louis. What exactly are you doing in New York?”

“Um,” Louis swallows a gulp of tea and shivers at the warmth rushing through him. “I’m studying here. I’m a freshman at Juilliard.”

“Juilliard?” Harry’s eyes widens a bit. “Wow. That’s… That’s something. What’re you studying?”

“Drama. It’s like, it’s just great. I feel so at home there, you know? I mean. Teenage boys who are into theater and music weren’t exactly creeping at every corner home in Doncaster. I’ve made so many new friends here.”

“Yeah, I get that,” Harry smiles. “ _Juilliard_ , though. That must’ve cost you a fortune.”

“Actually,” Louis scratches his neck lightly. “I kind of read full scholarship? So it wasn’t. It wasn’t that bad. I mean, obviously – “

“ _Scholarship_? What kind of theatrical genius are you?”

“Shut up,” Louis mumbles, but he can’t hide the proud smile that’s twitching in the corners of his mouth. It’s the first thing he’s really succeeded with so far in his life; he really deserves this moment of conceit.

The green eyed boy dimples at Louis and takes a sip of his latte. “Really, though. Moving across the world at eighteen years of age is a big step. I couldn’t ever imagine leaving America; I’d miss everyone too much.”

“Yeah,” Louis says quietly. “Yeah, it’s... It’s hard.”

Harry’s pretty eyes grow concerned again, and he watches the caramel haired boy in front of him for a couple of minutes. Louis’ eyes are on the table, and he bites his lip loosely. It really is. Especially considering that he can’t afford to go home this Christmas.

It’ll be his first Christmas, and birthday, without his family.

It’s a difficult thought to get accustomed to.

Few minutes later, and the silence is getting too uncomfortable on Louis’ part. So he exhales once, smiles, and then turns his gaze to Harry again.

“So,” he begins. “Let’s talk about you.”

Harry smiles crookedly. “What do you want to know?”

“Anything. Full name? Age? Interests? Family? Cereal of choice? I want the whole dating advert.”

Louis needs to keep count on how many times he’s made Harry laugh the last thirty minutes. It makes his chest swell with pride.

“Well,” Harry drags out the word playfully. “My name is Harry Edward Styles. I’m sixteen. My interests include music, cooking, wasting money and being around people. I have a big sister, my parents are divorced, my mum re-married and my dad is only romantically involved with his record label. My favorite cereal would probably be froot loops and if you judge me I’m leaving. Also, because I know you’re wondering, I am very gay and very single.”

Louis almost chokes on his tea and puts the cup down with a little bit more force than might necessary. “Wow. Okay. Good to know.”

Is he really that obvious, or is Harry just painfully aware of his own desirability?

Probably a bit of both, Louis figures and shrugs internally as Harry’s smirk grows. This could be fun.

“To be fair, you did ask for a dating advert so I thought I’d be leading people on if I didn’t mention my sexuality, don’t you agree?” Harry asks, resting his chin in the palm of his hand.

Louis grins. “Good point. Although if this is going to look like an actual dating advert you’ll have to be a bit more sappy. Throw something about poetry in there, maybe. Also you might not want to threaten your eventual partner with leaving because of a quite silly cereal brand.”

“I take it I’m getting advice from an expert?”

“Oh, please,” Louis snorts. “Do I look like I can’t get a guy without help from a desperate plead in a magazine?”

“No, you don’t,” Harry shrugs. “I think you should go for obvious shoplifting in the presence of a rich person. You’ll have him wrapped around your finger in seconds.”

Louis sends Harry a look of feigned hurt and swats the younger boy’s arm. “Desperate times call for desperate measures.”

Harry laughs once again, and Louis grins at the sound. “I like you.”

Louis can literally feel the way his chest puffs out and it’s kind of a lovely feeling. Harry has managed to make him feel so good about himself in the span of an hour, and it’s so amazing because Louis really needs it right now.

They keep talking, they joke and laugh and flirt, bantering back and forth about word differences (“why the fuck would you call it _football_ when you’re holding it _in your hands_ most of the time?”) and stereotypes (“so, like, do you know the queen and all that?” “I don’t know, are you buddies with the president?”) and Louis has never felt this at ease since he moved to America. Harry’s just such a bundle of contagious, positive energy and Louis lets himself fall into the conversations whole-heartedly. He’s amazed at the way they can actually talk about anything.

He tells Harry about how he’s spending Christmas here because he’s too poor to go back to England at the moment, (Harry looks impressively sad at that, and Louis kind of likes that he cares). He tells Harry about his lead part in Grease which was one of the contributing reasons for the scholarship. He tells Harry about all his dreams and ambitions, and about his sisters and his mum and his long gone dad.

In return Harry tells Louis about what it’s like growing up in such a huge city. He tells Louis about his dad and the expectations his dad has on him. He tells Louis about how he’d much rather be one of the artists rather than a producer at that label. He tells Louis about how close he and his sister are, and how much he misses her now that she’s gone off to college. He tells Louis about his fears for the future, how he has no idea what he wants to do or who he wants to be.

There is a mutual understanding between the two, despite their differences, and Louis is ready to admit that yes, he’s disappointed when Harry tells him he needs to head home.

Louis walks with Harry to the car, and he’s not even surprised when they end up by a red, polished Porsche standing in a crowded parking lot.

“This was fun,” Harry says as they stand in front of his car. “The next date, you’ll have to decide what to do, though. I don’t like it when things are completely one-sided.”

Louis’ eyes widen comically before he can stop them.

“Date?” he clarifies, unsure he’d heard Harry right.

Harry just smiles beautifully. “Well. So far I’ve bought you a gift, taken you out to coffee and paid for your order, we’ve been flirting and getting to know each other and now you’ve followed me to my car. Sounds an awful lot like a date, doesn’t it?”

Louis just stares for a moment, a grin playing on his lips. “Damn, you’re _good_.”

“I am very good at getting what I want, yes,” the curly boy beams innocently.

 _Unbelievable_ , Louis thinks. This kid is unbelievable.

“So, then. Are you the kind of person that kisses on the first date, Harry?”

“Not usually,” Harry responds, “but I guess there are always exceptions.”

~

 

When they finally part ways, Louis has got a new number in his phone and the taste of coffee and Harry on his lips and he figures this Christmas might not be that bad, anyway.

 

 


End file.
